Blue Fire Redemption
by FyodorD
Summary: The Factory has fallen. Old memories have awakened. From the ashes of the past springs the hope of a new future. Will Robin have to face her destiny alone?
1. Rising from the Ashes

**Disclaimer: I do not own WHR and can only hope that I do justice to such an excellent show in this fictional piece.**

Amon was dead. Through the choking concrete dust, she could see his broken body lying twisted and unmoving. She stood frozen, her eyes wide with shock and horror, her lips silently mouthing his name over and over again…"Amon…Amon…Amon…"

The falling pylon had caught them just as they were about to climb the steel ladder after Karasuma. Amid the general roar of the collapsing structure, they had heard the ominous groaning noise of the concrete as it too succumbed and fell. He had pushed her roughly then, his earlier words echoing back to her… "The only way to know if you should exist is if you survive." Though she had tried to deflect the bulk of the massive slab with her craft as it surged toward them, desperately and painfully turning her body, it had been too late. The pylon was coming too fast and her aim was not angled properly.

Her knees buckled beneath her as she fell toward him. Her trembling fingers reached out to touch his neck. Her hand jumped as if caught by her own flames. Could her fingers be telling the truth? She thought she had felt a pulse. She reached out again, lightly pressing beneath his chin and ear. YES! She did feel a weak but insistent heartbeat. It wasn't too late.

Unsteadily she rose and began to scratch and claw at the concrete lying across his torso. There was still hope… she _was_ hope. Her arms began to burn, her lungs choking on the dust around her, her eyes stinging. Tears were flowing unabated down her cheeks leaving murky tracks in the fine grey powder that covered her. The debris was not moving. Focusing her last bit of strength, she aimed her craft at it. The fire blazed clear and strong and the rubble lifted off of Amon's body.

Shuddering and weeping she fell next to him. "Why, Amon? Why did you risk yourself for me again?" she whispered, frantically wiping at his face with the dirty hem of her black skirt. And then, miraculously, she felt strong arms wrapping around her, pulling her free. Through the dim haze clouding her vision she saw arms reaching toward Amon's still body. "Save him," she whispered.


	2. Rescue

Chapter 2

She was being carried toward a waiting vehicle when consciousness returned. "Amon," she cried out, her arms struggling against the ones that clasped her close. As her vision began to clear, she heard a familiar, low voice speak. "Hush, Robin. He is alive and so are you. God has indeed laid His hand on you tonight." Her gaze angled toward the speaker, her heart quickening with a mixture of hope and anxiety. "Juliano," she whispered.

"Put her in the car, quickly." Juliano spoke to the man holding her.

"And the other?" another voice spoke.

"Send him ahead in the helicopter. He needs medical attention immediately. However, we need to evacuate both subjects from the country as soon as possible. It is not safe for them here at the moment."

"Their destination, Monsignor?"

"Italy. Where better to hide them than under the very eyes of those who seek them?"

Robin's thoughts went to Nagira. "Where better for you to hide than in the city, under the very nose of Solomon's STN-J?" he had said to her when she had fled to him the night of the attack. Nagira…she hoped he and the others had made it out on time. As her mind tilted toward unconsciousness, Robin wondered if she would ever see any of her friends again.

Juliano gazed at the pale, dirty face of his unconscious granddaughter. She looked so very like her mother. "Oh, Maria, my child," he whispered. It had been his deep love for his daughter and the child she had borne that had allowed him to dredge up his ebbing power tonight. Watching from the hill overlooking the Factory, he had seen the structure collapse in upon itself and he had focused on Robin. He had sensed her spirit and known she lived and this had allowed him to find her and Amon buried deep in the ruins. The young men who accompanied him had obeyed his commands, never questioning why he chose to evacuate the two injured parties without informing the Solomon assault team. Those young men were good and loyal. Juliano sent up yet another prayer thanking God for their presence and for Robin's safety. God must be getting tired of hearing his pleas, Juliano thought with bitter amusement. But God had answered them, and here was Robin lying safe, next to him in his car. Tenderly, he wiped the grime from her face with his handkerchief, his gloved hands stroking her cheek, pushing the stray tendrils of hair from her face. Sighing wearily, Juliano leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes.


	3. Beatrice

Chapter 3

Beatrice. His mind cried her name. He had been a seminary student and she, a novice, studying to take her vows. She had been beautiful, quiet and gentle and so filled with joy and love for God that she had captivated his heart. He had been unable to take his vows and unable to justify a life that would keep her from him. Though their marriage had made it impossible for them to continue serving the Church as they had originally intended, they had been so happy, so content. When she had become pregnant, they had rejoiced. But shortly after giving birth, she had begun to change.

Her deep love for him and for their daughter, Agnes Maria, as well as the physical strain of a difficult birth had awakened something inside of her that she was unable to control. She stopped eating and rarely slept. She began to suffer from periods of intense sadness, a darkness that he could not pierce through. She told him that she received "visions" that forced her to feel the pain and anguish of all those she came in contact with, as though she could read their every thought, even the deepest and darkest desires of their hearts. Eventually, she would not even leave her room because everyone that came near her caused her such immense pain…even him. The people in the village began to whisper that his Beatrice had become a witch.

Then, just as suddenly, she seemed to improve. The morning that Beatrice emerged from her bedroom and smiled at him, bathed and wearing fresh clothes, his heart had leapt with hope. God had returned her to him. She had reached down and cradled Agnes Maria, clutching her tightly to her breast and murmured quiet endearments to her. "Juliano," she had told him quietly, "I am going to walk with Maria. It is a beautiful day and I have not seen the sun shine in so long." He had watched her disappear down the winding path from their small house and he had prayed prayers of thanksgiving to God for her return.

The squalling of the hungry Maria had alerted the village children. They found her lying on the embankment of a rumbling stream, swollen with spring thaw from the mountains. Amid the rushing waters had floated Beatrice.

Juliano had lain prostrate on the chapel floor for two days before he had been able to read the letter Beatrice had left him.

_My dearest heart,_

_I cannot control this power that has taken my body. I once believed I could serve God with all my being. Now I have found that I am weak and filled with the devil. I cannot allow him to control my soul any longer. I am returning my body to the Lord and I ask that you pray for my soul my love. I pray that God will have mercy on me. Please forgive me love. Ave Maria, watch over my daughter and protect her from this curse. Look upon this mother with favor. . _

_Beatrice_

One month after his wife's death, Juliano left Maria in the care of her relatives and returned to the monastery and his vows. Far from blaming God for taking Beatrice from him, Juliano had dedicated his life to saving the souls of others who were cursed with devil powers. This was how Solomon had found him and trained him for the hunt. By hunting those using witchcraft, Juliano sought to bring them release and redemption. He had been called to bring fallen souls back to God. As the years passed, he had risen to the heights of the organization, eventually becoming a trainer of hunters.

"Solomon," Juliano thought ruefully, "the great Hebrew king renowned for his wisdom and judgment. Better to have named the organization 'Saul' after the king who hunted and exterminated witches and yet consulted a witch himself." **(1)**

For isn't that what Solomon had done? They used witches to hunt other witches and yet told the hunters that they were 'craft users'. They justified their actions by saying that those who embraced their powers were dangerous and a threat to humanity and to the Church. "But had they always judged fairly?" Juliano wondered. Were all witches monsters incapable of knowing good from evil? Indeed, to his mind that had been what the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge had really gifted to mankind. An everlasting knowledge that humanity, and all creation, was flawed and incapable of redeeming itself.

Juliano turned to look at Robin again. He had faith in her now. She was not addicted to her own power. His Robin had not changed though she had learned to fly. The memory of his previous orders to hunt her sickened him. Why had he trusted the word of the Inquisitor?

His shoulders slumped while his brain continued to churn with unanswerable questions. Could she be the new Eve who could return to the Tree of Knowledge and reverse the curse the original Eve had bestowed upon mankind? How could he continue to protect her?

Juliano closed his eyes again and began to pray.

_**(1) In case you're interested in reading about Saul and the Witch of Endor, the biblical reference is 1 Samuel 28:7-14 **_


	4. A Father's Touch

Chapter 4

_The small boy huddled under the bed covers in his dark room. He was listening intently, trying to make out the words of the grownups whispering nearby. Fragments of conversation were drifting in through the crack in his bedroom doorway. _

"_But why?" a woman's voice was asking (it was his mother, he knew). "Why…go back to her?"_

"…_my son too," a deep voice answered. "I…owe it to them…a little longer and…"_

_A son. The little boy's knees curled up to his chest and he wrapped his arms more tightly around himself in misery. His father had another son. A son he probably loved more than him. That's why he never visited here except at night. That's why his father never wanted to look at him. That's why he would catch his mother crying softly, thinking he couldn't hear her. That's why…_

"…_can't do this. He needs to know you. Are you afraid of what we've given him? What he might become? You've awakened already and you've learned to control it. You've done nothing but good for our kind. You've helped others. I used to help you before the baby came. She can't understand all of that. She can't understand you like I do. And what if _they_ catch on? You'll be in danger. I can't live with the thought of you being taken away from us." _

_He could hear the sound of his mother weeping again. What had she meant? Had she been talking about him? He struggled to control his breathing. He wanted to hear more. He hungered to know more about the silent, invisible man who was his father. _

_But instead of voices, he heard footsteps approaching and then stopping in front of his door. He held his body still as the door opened. He could barely make out the dim shape in the darkness – a man. It was HIM. His father stopped in front of the bed and stared silently. He could just make out the rise of his father's hand – it was reaching out as if to stroke the top of his head. He couldn't breathe and his heart was beating so fast…just one touch, one touch. So close…_

"Clear!" the man screamed and Amon's body arced off the gurney. A heart monitor began to beep an erratic signal. "Shit! That was close! We almost lost the guy. Keep an eye on his vitals…"

The drone of the helicopter blades continued as the chopper carrying Amon made its way through the pre-dawn skies.


End file.
